


we only said goodbye with words

by sirensongs (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sirensongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It certainly has been quite a long time since I’ve seen you,” Louis says slowly, his bottom lip trembling as he breathes in the young man standing before him, all brilliant curly locks and eyes a shade of green that Louis had memorized long ago.</p><p>Or a self indulgent piece in which Harry and Louis are reunited and it's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we only said goodbye with words

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ okay hi so it's really short and it's really not all that special but i do hope you like it  
> and you can check me out on tumblr at http://sugarandstyles.tumblr.com ♡

 

“It certainly has been quite a long time since I’ve seen you,” Louis says slowly, his bottom lip trembling as he breathes in the young man standing before him, all brilliant curly locks and eyes a shade of green that Louis had memorized long ago. 

Harry agrees, “Far too long.” 

“We were just kids,” Louis muses, just to see how Harry feels. There’s a party going on around them but it feels like it’s just the two of them, just their hearts and their minds and it’s beautiful because they only see each other’s bright eyes. 

Harry sighs, “Old enough to know what we were doing.” 

“Well I do like that answer,” Louis assures him, holding the flute to his lips and taking a quick sip of champagne. He’s wearing all white because he just likes to, and he likes how it helps his skin radiate and he thinks it makes him look young and innocent or something, thinks it helps him seem attractive and delicate. 

Harry has a way of being, he has an essence about him. He’s this bright and electric character who can sweep a room full of people under a rug and he can talk to you like none of them exist. He can touch your arm accidentally (on purpose) and it’s like you’ve been struck by some insubstantial bit of lightning, it’s like he’s creating sparks or something and he’s good at smiling into his words and dragging your eyes along with his lips. 

Then again, Louis has a brilliant way about himself as well. He’s all about appearance, sure, but he’s not daft in any sense. Maybe he’s cool and a bit of a tease in some aspects, maybe he likes to let his words slip out like seductive snakes, maybe he even might ask you to repeat something just to make you feel important, maybe he does all these things with the highest hopes that you’ll fall under his spell as so many do. 

“Well then,” Harry begins, setting his drink on the hard granite counter top. They’re in Niall’s house, some lavish get together where everyone brought him a gift to celebrate his new home. It reminded Louis a lot of Liam and Zayn’s engagement party, the gifts and the formality and the spectacle of it. Louis just loved the spectacle, the design and the grandeur of it. 

Louis raises a brow, he feels his heart thud against his ribs like a bird stuck in a cage, the wings flapping incessantly and Louis would quite like to ask the bird to keep calm and allow him to focus on the conversation and not the anxiety of it all. The whole seeing Harry after four years thing. “Well what, Mr. Styles?” 

“How’ve you been?” Harry asks stupidly, regret tracing the words and Louis almost feels remorse for him because he can tell that Harry was flustered and would like very much to have a second go at his response. 

“I’ve been darling,” Louis coos. “Been to Venice and Paris and Milan, I’ve been to America, oh I’ve seen lots of things. I’ve just recovered from quite the divorce.” The words sting like knives. For Louis to be 23 and divorced, the shame is too much to bear but he’s speaking with Harry, his Harry and there’s no room for secrets. No room for anything but the truth. 

Zayn and Liam are sitting across the room, speaking with a few other guests and Louis’ sure he sees Zayn peck a kiss to Liam’s cheek and he has to turn away and look quickly to the floor because he tries his best but he can’t stay strong all the time, he can’t forget what love felt like, he can’t forget his pain and he certainly can’t forget the little kisses like that. 

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Harry frowns, Louis looks up just long enough to see it. Harry’s stepping closer to Louis and lowering his head a little. Louis won’t look at him and that bothers Harry, he thinks, because Harry whispers, soft and slow, “Hey...” 

Louis looks up, “It’s just part of life, isn’t it?” 

“It shouldn’t be for you,” Harry admits. “You don’t deserve to have your heart broken.” 

“Don’t I?” Louis practically spits. “Are you really the one to tell me I don’t deserve to have a broken heart? After what happened, Harry?” 

“I was stupid,” Harry’s face screws up into an awful sadness and Louis wishes he didn’t say anything but he has to, he can’t help it. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I really thought you knew that. I didn’t want to bring it up, I’m sorry. How cowardly of me.” 

Louis shakes his head slowly, taking a sip of champagne and trying to hide his misty eyes from the boy—man, now—towering over him. “You were seventeen. I don’t know what I was thinking, Harry. I’m sorry. I do know you’re sorry.” 

“But I can see it still hurts you,” Harry cries out softly, trying not to be too loud so as to avoid causing a scene. He knows Louis hates causing scenes if they’re negative like this. 

This causes Louis to bite his lip, blinking hard and banishing his tears away. “Well yes, of course it still hurts me, Harry. You were my everything. You were my first kiss, my first love.” 

“And I was stupid!” Harry urges. “I was afraid of myself back then...” 

“She was beautiful,” Louis begins and he knows he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t do this but he’s waited four years to really hear it all from Harry and not from their mutual friends. 

Harry brings his hand to Louis’ and Louis doesn’t resist, he doesn’t pull away because, damn it, he misses this. He misses Harry’s big strong hand around his, even four years after everything even after all of the pain and all of the betrayal and lies and even though Harry hurt him more than anyone else. Even though Louis should hate Harry he just misses those hot summer nights and the coolness of the pool against their bodies, the ocean salt on their lips and the sand in their sheets. 

“Louis Tomlinson, listen to me.” He’s commanding but he’s gentle too, even through gritted teeth and with eyes that are fighting back tears with a ferocity Louis has never seen. “You didn’t deserve me, all right? You deserved someone who knew himself, someone who liked himself, someone who was comfortable and who could love you right.” 

And though Louis wants nothing more than to talk to Harry about this because it’s been on his mind for ages, he can’t burst into tears in the middle of this party for Niall so he sighs, “Harry, can’t we talk about this later? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, I apologize, Harry. We shouldn’t discuss it here.” 

“Let’s step outside then,” Harry suggests. Louis feels sort of appreciative of this in some small and odd way because it means Harry cares, really. So Louis accepts, nodding shallowly into his drink and smiling in a small fashion. He follows Harry’s ghost like steps, his feet light and determined, definite and absolute. Louis only wants to stop him, for the room to stop, the music to scratch and everyone would gasp as Harry grabs Louis’ neck and kisses his open mouth. That doesn’t happen. 

Harry opens a door that is placed in the center of a long glass wall, they’re thrown into the darkness and they’re walking along a metal balcony and Louis wonders if Harry’s going to stop walking anytime soon but he doesn’t ask, he just keeps behind him, past the end of the balcony and onto the back lawn, not far from the river and the dock and Harry stops at a large tree, tracing his fingers along the bark and there isn’t much light, just enough for Louis to make out the defining features of Harry’s face. 

“I fucking regret what I did, Louis,” Harry begins, his hand still pressed flat against the tree and he looks back, his eyes all pain and remorse. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted it to happen like that. I don’t know what I wanted.” 

Louis steps, slowly, toward Harry, his head tilted to the side and he wants to hug Harry so tight, wants to snuggle him like the giant teddy bear he is. “You don’t owe me any explanations.” 

“I do!” Harry whines, “I made such a stupid choice and I wish every day of my life that I could take it back.” 

This causes Louis to stop and blink quickly, his mouth hanging open. “You do?” 

“Of course I do, Louis.” Harry takes Louis’ hand and leads him to stand next to him by the tree. “I would take it back, I wouldn’t ever let you feel pain like that. I’d never let anyone hurt you.” 

Louis wants to cry, he feels fragile and stupidly breakable in this moment with Harry, their hands intertwined as if nothing had happened. “Remember that time we snuck into the cinema?” It’s a random memory but Louis is desperate to see a smile on Harry’s face, and it works. 

Harry chuckles, eyes falling to Louis’ hand. “Yes, of course. We must’ve seen four films that day.” 

“Four, yes,” Louis nods. “And then we had ice cream in that little place on Oxford Street.” 

“Oh you picky little thing you, insisted their pistachio was old.” Harry smiles, his bright eyes beaming into Louis’. It’s slightly reminiscent of their love when it was beginning. Their brains flooding with phenylethylamine and their chemicals catalysts to each other. Louis fell in love with the cinnamon scent of Harry’s car freshener and the way he’d look over to the passenger seat and smile like he’d just seen a Christmas Gift sitting there waiting just for him. 

Louis fell in love with meeting Harry in the snowy park, bundled in hats and scarves and coats and gloves and they were there for only each other and nothing else really even mattered. Louis fell in love with the softness of Harry, the luxurious twists of his hair and the silkiness of his skin. 

“That pistachio ice cream didn’t taste right,” Louis sniffs. “I can still remember just how it was, even now.” 

Harry raises a brow, “I’m not surprised at all.” 

“There’s so much we never did,” Louis trails off, imagining the things he always wanted with Harry. Always wanted to go and pick a Christmas tree with him, bring an axe and watch Harry, big as he was, chop down their tree and strap it to the roof of their car, and Louis would ‘help’ but it’d end up in Harry smothering him in his big arms and kissing him until he forgot how cold it was. Then they’d put the tree in their little house in the outskirts of London, somewhere in lovely green suburbs. Louis wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with Harry, wrapped up in each other and rubbing noses while sipping champagne and eating raspberry dark chocolate. 

“Louis,” Harry says, and it’s sincere and it’s real and it catches Louis’ breath. “Why can’t we still do them?” 

“Oh, Harry,” Louis lets out one half hearted laugh, just trying to avert the situation. Trying to keep his mind in control of his heart is always a problem for Louis, especially in this moment when he knows so much has happened and he shouldn’t be feeling this way all over again. 

Harry takes Louis’ other wrist and he’s feeling his palm, slow touches. “Louis, look at me. Why can’t we? Who says?” 

“Maybe I do,” Louis offers, it’s entirely too forced and it’s false. 

“Do you?” Harry asks as simply as he can. 

Louis sighs, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” 

“So let’s just take things slowly,” Harry says. “I want to make it up to you, Lou. I want to show you how sorry I am, I want you to be happy and I don’t want you to ever hurt again. I can’t take back what I’ve done but I know you’re big on the whole ‘actions speak louder than words’ thing. Let me show you?” 

And Louis knows it’s insane but he also knows that when you know, you know. And he and Harry... They’ve always known. They’ve always realized that no other kiss, no other person’s lips, could cause the feeling of a contained spark of electricity. 

Louis decides he doesn’t care, so he simply pulls Harry a bit closer by his hands and he steps up on his tip-toes and he nearly trips on a root of the tree but he’s steadied by Harry and then he’s pressing his lips to the taller boy’s. The connection is soft and it’s real, it’s happening. Harry leans into the kiss more and then they’re apart for a moment, smiling and watching each other carefully, forehead to forehead. 

“Come on,” Louis says, pulling him back up the lawn, “It’s Niall’s party, we can’t be gone too long.” 

“You always were such a tease,” Harry chuckles. “I guess some things never change, do they?” 

Louis thinks of Harry’s low laugh and the way he can still feel Harry’s mouth against his, the way he still feels his heart thudding and he already knows he gets Harry tonight and he agrees, echoing Harry’s words in his own mind before looking back and smiling. “Some things never change.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it, again i'm sorry it's so short i just sort of wanted to tell this little story and i did and so yeah now that's all x


End file.
